The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-12-08

COME and as she asked it very prettily,
determined to 60 and help the dear
child have pleasant send of.
Well, after a ride of fifty miles in the
cars and two in Solomon's carriage.
(for the train took was an express
and didn't stop at their villace), I
found myself once more at the old
homestead. l hadn't been there in
ten years, but was prepared for all
the changes by the letters little
Penelope used to write to me ever
two weeks, but what l WASN'T pre-
pared for was the change in Pene-
lope since had visit from her at
my own house six months before.
She looked about as little like a. pro-
spective bride as anything ever saw,
and yet knew the man she was to
marry was we'll worthy my Penelope.
and that is saying @ great deal. /
was struck SO with that girls appear.
ance was dumb.
Pale and thin and hollow.eved.
with great deep circles under her ewes.
she just looked tired to death. "That
girls going to be SICK" said to N.Y.
sell, IL guess I've come to her funeral
instead of her wedding"
"For the lands sake, Jane, what
ever ails Penelope?" exclaimed, as
soon as had her alone.
'Why?"
"'Why?' Don't you see how she
looks?"
20, l see she looks kind OF pale, but
then she's in love you know, and girls
always look pale them" and she
laughed her easy laugh, that hate
so; yes. under some circumstances I
fairly hate that laugh OF hers, and
this was one Of those circumstances:
it showed so plainly how blind she
was. So didn't say anything more,
saw it wasn't any use. But I made
up my mind that I'd find out what
was the matter with Penelope. and
mend it, if an "old maid aunt" who
isn't supposed to know anything
about affairs of the heart, could be- Of
any use.
"Well, Penelope" said 1, the next
day, right after breakfast, ''now
I'm all ready, thimble, scissors,
help in making those wonderful we'd
ding Clothes" You see l knew Jane
was full OF all sorts of nonsensical
vanity, and l felt sure of wedding fine
ny and pippery there would be enough
and to spare.
20, she's all done, F" said Jane, "she's
been done two months and more. She
hurried up SO as to have plenty of
time to make her veil. You ought to
see her things. Pen. show your aunt
Penelope your things" she said, pride
in every tone OF her voice. "She's cot
six white wrappers" telling them of
on her fingers, lone dozen white shirts
etc." ( l shan't tell you here all she
had. you'd get as tired of listening as
l did ending, triumphantly, land
Penelope, her wedding clothes cost u
hundred dollars more than Colonel
Thompson's daughters did, land he's
the richest man in town. And she was
married in a. plain veil, too. Just
walt till you see Penelope's." She
turned to 60 to the kitchen, while Pen
led the way up stairs. very YEARLY
thought.
However. We went through the cere.
mony OF examining the things, and
praised all the pretty robes about me.
II know just what you think, Aunt
Pen. and ] don't blame YOU"
"What do I think, little Penn"
"You think there is great deal too
much --"
Eyes, do"
$50 do l. I didn't want all these
things, and it was dreadful to sit here
stitch, stitch, stitching, all these
long, hot days, just for the sake of
saying I had the most things. But
mother gave them all to me and
seemed to have the matter so much
at heart it seemed ungrateful in me to
make any objection. And she seemed
so set on it; she said she only had one
daughter, and there would only be-
one wedding in the family, and SEEM
ed TO take it so much to heart that
couldn't resist. You know what
mother is"
eyes. know what your mother is"
/ answered, grimly, while said to
myself 'she's fool, that's what your
mother isl
"Well, now. Pen, dear, you have
month to rest. Well have some long
talks and long walks and just get
ready quietly for the finale.''
20, indeed, l haven't time for any,
thing of that kind, Aunt PEN"
''Why not? What is thereleft to do?
thought everything was done?'
$50 everything is but my veil.''
"Well, child. who ever heard of it's
taking q month to make wedding
veil?"
"Well, I've been at mine every spare
minute for two months; and it isn't
nearly finished yet. I'm almost afraid
another month won't finish it unless
work at nights, and it tries my eyes.
Besides James comes in the evenings,
and I'm not going to put him aside
for all the fnery in the world"
"Let me see this VEIL" said, SOL
EMMY, so we went into the next room
and there in frame was the lovely
filmy lace thing on which this dear
girl had been spending her time. nay,
nay, her life, for the past two months.
lis this some OF your mothers
work?' .-..-
NO." she answered, innocently, cit
is every stitch mine, but mother in
sisted on 1t. She said I knew how to
make such lovely lace things and that
now was tho time, and she seemed 50
SET on the lace Veu as 3 part OF the
SHOW that 1have done it. Itislove-
)y-isn't it,"
The child had not understood my
question but she had answered me. I
said nothing aloud but l groaned in.
wardly. Here was all I wanted to
know. made up my mind I wouldn't
say ono word then. The whole thing
seemed too preposterous for words.
But likewise made up my mind that
tho first chance I got I'd take an old
maids privilege Of telling Solomon q
thing or two. and I'd likewise say q
word in season to, my prospective
nephew. I'd have the thing stopped,
II I had to 20 to the city and buy my
namesake q lace veil to crafty her
mothers vanity.
However, Penelope took matters in
Ter own hands and finished the buis-